


Rose Tinted

by PhePhePhe



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-13 09:52:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhePhePhe/pseuds/PhePhePhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Stay," he half-groaned. Sakura paused, tempted. "You have no idea what you're saying." "I may be an old man, but I'm not senile yet." KakaSaku</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rose Tinted

...

...

...

Cesspool.

That was one word that could be used to describe Kakashi's humble abode. Scrunching up her nose against the layer of dust assaulting her senses, Sakura pushed herself further up onto her tiptoes - even though she was already balanced on the arms of a wooden chair that had obviously seen better days. The natural balance of a shinobi helped with her precarious position, but the tiniest amount of chakra didn't hurt.

Sweeping her duster along the top of Kakashi's neglected wardrobe, Sakura hummed softly to herself. She had always enjoyed cleaning, though she never admitted it. It was just so civilian and domestic. Two words kunoichi never wanted to hear in relation to themselves; they were practically the "your mamma" of shinobi insults.

Knowing Kakashi and the fact that he did not particularly appreciate gifts and not having any idea what to get him in any case - Sakura made the decision to give his flat a long overdue cleaning. It was thoughtful, practical, and she was sure he would like coming back to a neat place with that mountain high pile of washing dealt with and his favourite take-out waiting to be eaten.

Just like a little wife, aren't you? Inner Sakura muttered resentfully.

'Oh, shut up.'

Jerking her arm more zealously than she probably should of to reach the back of the wardrobe, she felt her duster hit something and knock it down onto the newly washed floorboards. Turning to glance over her shoulder guiltily, Sakura's emerald green eyes focused on the lurid orange object she had accidentally knocked from its rightful place. Hopping down from her perch, she walked slowly over to wrap her fingers around the plastic object.

Wincing, she took in the spider web pattern of cracks that now adorned the left hand side of the brightest goggles Sakura had ever seen in her life.

She traced the fine cracks with the tip of her index finger while gently biting her lower lip. Kakashi did not wear things like this, and she hadn't seen a single sentimental object in the whole house - unless you counted the odd picture here and there. That must mean that this was either very important, or he had gotten it as a terrible gift or something, shoved it where it would never see the light of day, and promptly forgotten about it.

Pushing back the fine pink strands of her hair that had escaped her neat bun, Sakura wished - not for the first time - that her healing chakra could fix objects too. But, it was too late for that kind of regret now. She just hoped that this wasn't important. Setting it on his bed, she made a mental note to tell him as soon as he got back, or to leave a note explaining, before she set off to finish cleaning the wardrobe.

...

Sakura wasn't sure how long she had been cleaning, but it was dark now - the long shadows creeping along the bare floorboards in long, reaching fingers, and swallowing most of the room.

Kakashi wasn't due back until dawn at the earliest, but as night fell Sakura had started to feel like less of a helpful friend, and more of an intruder. It was probably about time for her to leave; the entire place was absolutely spotless. But... her thoughts turned guiltily back to the broken goggles and Sakura found herself creeping back to Kakashi's room on bare feet.

She hadn't yet drawn the curtains in his room so the moonlight streamed in undisturbed until it touched the shape of the goggles on the sheets. Picking them up gently, Sakura pulled the elastic and easily looped it over her head. It felt a little loose, but overall quite a good fit. Through the plastic, even the pale moonlight had turned a vivid shade of tangerine making her wonder how anyone could stand to wear these things during broad daylight.

Surely being exposed to such a bright colour would drive Kakashi insane if he had to endure it for any length of time. That thought made her smile as she imagined his expression of horror if confronted with such a sunshine toned vision of the world. Turning, she regarded herself in the small mirror she was sure he never used. The goggles did her absolutely no favours, but - then again - they weren't exactly renowned for being sexy.

"Obito," Kakashi's voice rasped, near enough to startle her.

Whipping around, she saw him half in the room, still perched on the windowsill. Of course he couldn't be normal and go in his own house through the damned front door. Of course he would catch her doing something stupid like trying on the goggles that she had broken. Sakura met his eyes through the coloured plastic - desperate to say something; 'surprise' and 'I'm sorry' died in her throat at the sight of his expression. Torn between abject terror and soul searing sorrow - Sakura felt she was looking at a living projection of pain. And she could only see a tiny fraction of his face. She watched his clench fist shake though the rest of his body remained rooted to the spot.

"Kakashi," she gasped out, "it's just me. I wanted to surprise you."

The words sounded hollow to her own ears, but he didn't even seem to hear them.

"I'm sorry," he echoed her, hoarsely, "I'm sorry."

He was still staring at the mirror even though she was walking towards him now. And she knew he had seen her reflection when he was climbing in the window... With her dark, baggy cleaning clothes on, her hair tied tightly up, the goggles, and the darkness... Shit. The photograph by his bed, the name she had just heard him groan - Obito. Instead of her standing there he had seen his old friend, his dead friend.

"Kakashi, it's just me. Sakura."

Raising her hands up, she tentatively touched his face - something she had only done a handful of times. The texture of the mask was rough beneath her fingertips, and she felt rather than saw the muscle in his jaw jump. A single dark eye snapped away from the reflections in the mirror to meet her own gaze. An electric current ran down her back in the instant just before he grabbed both of her wrists in a crushing grip and drove her backwards to slam her back into the wardrobe.

It was deeply ingrained in Sakura to fight, and that was what she tried to do - kicking and pushing with her significant chakra-aided strength. Kakashi was an experienced shinobi. Experienced enough that even when he was suffering some kind of mental trauma he could still disable her chakra and stop any attempts to squirm free. Sakura felt the breath crushed out of her lungs as his tall, hard body pressed hers to the unyielding wood behind her.

Feeling fear when around Kakashi was an alien experience.

She felt his harsh breathing near her ear just before the scrape of teeth covered by a layer of thin fabric dragged across the vulnerable skin of her throat. For a second she wondered if he was going to rip her windpipe. Instead, he just leaned against her - as heavy and dense as a brick wall - and panted as though he had just ran several marathons without cease. Every muscle in his body was tense and solid against her, and she knew he would feel her quivering like a captured - weak - animal.

Training rather than cleaning should probably have been a priority.

But it was too late for that now.

"Kakashi," Sakura murmured, hearing her own voice catch and hating it.

She started to edge her hands down, trying to slide them out of the death-grip that was very near breaking her wrists in half, but he wasn't having any of it. The next moment he was pressing so hard against her the wood of the wardrobe groaned in protest and she saw stars from the combination of the lack of oxygen and crushing pressure on her lungs. The growl she heard tear from his lips vibrated through his chest to hers.

"You're hurting me," she managed to pant out, arching her back to press against him.

No chakra - he was draining it somehow - no ability to move and almost no ability to breathe. Darkness began to creep into the edges of her vision just before he began to ease back enough for her to tilt her head up to look at him and get a half breath full of air into her burning lungs. Kakashi's single visible eye was focused resolutely on the texture of wood in front of him, and Sakura watched a trickle of sweat drip down and disappear beneath his mask. His pupil contracted and dilated frantically.

She caught the harsh, unmistakable taint of alcohol on his breath.

"Can... Can you hear me?" she said, quietly.

Sakura was still hoping for him to draw back and laugh at her for being so frightened, to make some lewd comment about the position they were in... In any other situation, she though desperately, that might be desirable. Instead she just focused on the furious beating of his heart so close to her chest, and his shallow rapid breathing. When she drew in a breath to speak again, she heard his hoarse voice cut through the silence.

"Sakura. You shouldn't be here; not tonight."

The sense of relief she felt was almost crushing. Moving her fingers as much as she could, she could she managed to weakly stroke the back of his hand with her fingertips. He still hadn't pulled back, but she felt a fine tremor run through his entire body in reaction to what she had meant to be a reassuring touch.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to surprise you when you came back. I didn't mean -"

"I know you didn't." The low growl of his voice still managed to unnerve her.

"And the goggles..." she continued, softly, ashamed," I didn't mean to break them. I'm sorry if I upset you."

"They were already broken," he gave a heavy sigh; she felt his heart rate begin to decrease.

Another length of silence stretched between them just as she began to feel something warm and damp pressing against her abdomen. A bitter metallic smell that coated the inside of the mouth and could be tasted on the tongue made itself known over the twin heady scents of the alcohol on Kakashi's breath, and the dark, masculine smell mixed with the tang of sweat that radiated from him.

Blood.

The fucker was bleeding out on her.

"Kakashi, you stupid bastard," Sakura hissed, prior fear quickly superseded," please tell me you didn't go and half drink yourself to death after you got that wound to the stomach."

Her only answer was a groan as his previously tense muscles gave way and Sakura suddenly found herself bearing the considerable weight of an entire male body of hard, dense muscle.

Even through the glaringly happy orange tinted plastic he didn't look good.

...

Whatever he had been doing to her chakra before he passed out stopped. It would have made carrying him over to the bed a hell of a lot more difficult. In the process he managed to bleed all over her, the clean floor, and the newly washed sheets. Sakura would have been beyond pissed if she hadn't been so worried about him dying before she could even lecture him.

Slipping a kunai from her clothing she slit his tight shirt from hem to hem. He wasn't wearing one with a built in mask today, so she didn't bother removing the tight cloth from his face - he could breath find with it on. As she peeled the fabric from his chest and stomach yet more blood gushed out from a wound that stretched from the middle of his stomach, just above the belly button, up until it almost reached his armpit.

Motherfucker.

More than one of his ribs were broken, and his intestines had been cut, along with multiple other things. Sakura was sure that - if he hadn't been wearing such form-fitting clothing - he might have lost some of his organs on the way here. Rolling her sleeves up, she started to work furiously. The conditions weren't ideal, but she had done this in worst places - in the middle of a marsh with mud up to her ankles while enemy nins were in the area ranked as one of the worst.

After only five minutes of intensive work, Kakashi's eyes snapped open. He should be barely able to breathe never mind able to achieve consciousness, but the heavy traces of soldier pills in his body might explain why he was still able to open his eyes.

"It was a long time ago. He died. It was my fault." He said it tonelessly, as though reading it from a report.

She couldn't move her hands from his wound, but Sakura wanted so badly to reassure him. She leant across and placed a careful kiss to his forehead, blushing slightly as she did so. He continued staring at the ceiling with those two blank eyes - expression unchanging. For a long moment there was silence, save for the quiet hum of her chakra, but then Kakashi started speaking again in a broken-up manner that made her think he would probably never speak to her again if he remembered this.

"And even longer ago than that - Obito was late one day. Late back to meet up on a mission. Bastard could never keep to protocol. I threw something at him... a stone... and it broke his goggles. He left them there, in that clearing, and bitched all the way back to Konoha. I went back and got them one day after... After."

"Shh," Sakura murmured, wishing he would pass out and save himself what she knew must be agony, "I know you tried your best. You take care of your team."

He lapsed into a series of heavy breathing interspersed with muffled groans. When one of her hands were free she pulled off his head band and peeled off his mask to leave a tidemark of blood just beneath his eyes. Kakashi was too far gone to even complain. She felt like some kind of voyeur for staring at his face as she worked. The moment was bittersweet - with a far heavier emphasis on the former, rather than the latter - but he was beautiful.

Sakura felt more than ashamed, but this was yet another thing she hoped he would forget when he woke. She would never tell a soul.

It took another two hours to finish, during which Kakashi alternated between groaning, talking quietly, and quoting Icha Icha. There were points when he grabbed her hand as though needing comfort, and others where he grasped her fingers and squeezed as though to shatter her bones to pieces. When she was done she stood and wiped her hands down the front of her already filthy shirt promising to check on him in the morning no matter how ashamed she felt.

"Stay," he half-groaned.

Sakura paused, tempted. "You have no idea what you're saying."

"I may be an old man, but I'm not senile yet." Came the reply, so familiar she wanted to sob.

He was staring at her now. How could she say no?

"If I stay will you promise never to do anything like this again."

Kakashi blinked somewhat sluggishly and frowned at her. She couldn't help but find him endearing like this.

"I do this every year, and it hasn't killed me yet."

This - take the most dangerous mission going over the anniversary of Obito's death and stay awake through it only by using copious amounts of alcohol and soldier pills. Sakura wanted to hit him, to yell at him, to kiss him, to pity him... She stood by his bed and kept her face neutral.

"Promise me, Kakashi-sensei."

"You look at me with those big green, watering eyes, and do you think I could deny you anything, hm? I promise."

"Good."

She drew over the small stool that normally stood in the corner, sat down and watched him. Exhausted though she was, Sakura didn't quite feel at the point where she wanted to curl up on his hard wooden floorboards.

"I meant in the bed," he almost sounded like a dejected child.

She eyed the freshly changed sheets, laughter bubbling up, "You're lewd even on your deathbed."

"Humour a dying man's last wish then, Sakura-chan."

The sight of his smile without his mask on was absolutely heart-stopping. She was suddenly glad he didn't seem to have noticed the absence of the fabric and demanded it back with the edginess that usually accompanied the subject of him revealing his face. The way his eyelids kept dropping he was about to pass out anyway... and she was so tired. The word slipped from her mouth before she managed to stop it.

"Alright."

...

Waking up to the feeling of a hard, male chest pressed against her back was hardly something Sakura was accustomed to. She very nearly screamed bloody murder before the events of the night before flooded into her mind. The rumble from the person behind her almost made her leap from the bed... Well, she would have had a large hand not been clamped around her waist like a vice.

"Kakashi, do you know what you did to yourself last night?" Sakura hissed, trying to be as intimidating as possible, but probably failing considering the position they were in.

She wriggled free of his grip, and sat up to glare at him. He looked as calm and infuriatingly cool as usual sprawled out on his bed, face still bare to the world. She wanted to gape at him in the early morning light, but settled for glaring as fiercely as possible.

"I do this every year, and after the mission I usually..." he trailed off, rubbing a hand through the tangled silver strands of his hair, "We didn't do anything, Sakura-chan?"

Her face turned a flattering shade of cherry-tomato red as she caught his implication. She crossed her arms over her somewhat unimpressive chest and leaned away from him, expression stormy. His face began to pale rapidly when she didn't answer which prompted her to spit out a reply.

"I still have my clothes on, don't I?" Sakura muttered, sourly.

Kakashi let out a heavy sigh of relief and rolled his muscular shoulders slowly. Trying not to focus on the impressive rippling of the flesh that had previously been pressed against her for several long, unconscious hours, Sakura drew her knees up to her chest and contemplated storming from the bed before he started asking questions about what actually had happened. She didn't want him to be angry.

"Don't act so relieved, it's insulting. It wouldn't have been that bad if we had," Sakura muttered acidly into her knees.

She felt his breathing catch slightly behind her and cursed her own loud mouth just as a large hand grabbed the back of her t-shirt and dragged her onto her back. She looked up at his mismatching eyes and tousled hair and tried not to tremble too much. Any thoughts of booting him in the stomach were off-limits because of his injury. She noticed the tiny, near imperceptible, wince as he stretched the newly healed skin of his abdomen.

Just as Sakura was about to lecture him for almost undoing all her hard work he spoke into her ear - hot breath brushing over her neck in a way that made her want to shiver, and sending a sharp jolt of heat to the pit of her stomach that she didn't want to investigate.

"If it ever does happen, I want to remember every second of it."

...

...

...

**Author's Note:**

> My first KakaSaku ever, as you can probably tell. Cross-posted to my FF.net. Just so you know.


End file.
